


...And I'm All Right

by Taste_is_Sweet



Series: Soldiers of Fire and Shadows [25]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/M, Families of Choice, Friendship, Gen, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT EITHER, M/M, Matt Murdock Recovering, Reunions, Series Finale, mostly comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 17:38:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17965094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_is_Sweet/pseuds/Taste_is_Sweet
Summary: Some families you choose.(Foggy's smile gets tight and watery around the edges. "Yeah," he says, voice rough. "Let's not do that shit again, okay? It's you and me against the world. Always and forever."Matt nods. "Yeah, Foggy. You and me. Always." He looks in Illya's direction again. "But, it's just you and me anymore. We have friends." His grin is tentative, but it's not uncertain; just shy. "And…I have brothers now. That's true, right?" he asks Illya. "You, and Bucky and Rain. You're my brothers."Illya gives Matt one of his rare, beaming smiles. "Yes, Matya. That is true.")





	...And I'm All Right

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from another one of my retro faves: [Dancing On My Own Ground](https://youtu.be/weA7F9Gir6A) by Lawrence Gowan.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Huge thanks to my dear friend [Shazrolane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shazrolane), for once again reading this through for me when I was wibbling and telling me it was, well, all right. ;)

_All that I'd lost I found,_  
_Dancing on my own ground again._  
_And I'm all right._  
\---Lawrence Gowan, [Dancing On My Own Ground](https://youtu.be/weA7F9Gir6A)

One thing Claire will say about Stark Tower's ridiculously large second-floor cafeteria is that it has extremely comfortable armchairs. Dangerously comfortable, considering she's only been here ten minutes and she's already half asleep.

She's not even that tired. It's been eight days since Steve and Tony rescued Matt and the teenager, and she's honestly done almost nothing but visit Matt, help people in her makeshift clinic, and sleep. And Matt's been in a coma for almost the entire time, with other medical professionals looking after him. So it's not like he's even making her life difficult. For once. But somehow she wants to curl up and sleep for a year all the same.

She's both grateful and a little disappointed when Christine comes back from the serving line and puts two very large mugs of coffee on the table.

"Are you all right?" she asks, shedding her coat and hanging it over the back of her chair. Claire left hers in Matt's room; she's going back there anyway.

"Yeah. Thanks." Claire nods. She picks up her mug and takes a shallow, careful sip. It's delicious—of course it is; Avengers Tower is just ridiculous sometimes—but still hot. "I'm just sleepy. It's all the warmth."

"Tell me about it," Christine groans, flopping into her chair. "I've been working sixteen-hour shifts all week. I just want to find somewhere quiet and _die._ " She takes a deep, reckless sip of her coffee, then grimaces as she swallows. "Ow." She fans her open mouth.

Claire winces in sympathy. "I was kind of hoping your new boyfriend was keeping you up."

Christine's eyes go wide and she blushes bright red, which will never not be hilarious. She takes another, more judicious sip of her coffee before answering. "Not _every_ night," she says primly, like Claire was being scandalous. Which is also hilarious. "Stop laughing."

"I'm not laughing," Claire says, blinking innocently over her coffee mug.

"You're laughing on the inside," Christine says. "I'm going to remember this when Luke's back."

Claire just grins. "I'll be too exhausted to care. Where is Illya, anyway?" she goes on, smiling sweetly at Christine's deeper blush and mild glare. "Still talking to Tony?"

Christine shakes her head. "He went somewhere with Bucky. I'm pretty sure he's confessing about what a terrible brother he is."

"Terrible brother?" Claire frowns, confused, then realizes what Christine means. "Oh! You mean, what he was saying back in the clinic, about how he had the chance to save Bucky but didn't?"

"Got it in one." Christine sighs overtop of her mug. "And I'm sure Bucky will have no idea what he's talking about. Which will hopefully finally get it through Illya's very thick skull that he didn't do anything wrong."

"Yeah, well, good luck with that," Claire says ruefully. She might know someone with an equally thick skull and affinity for undeserved guilt. And she really doesn't want to think about him right now, because he's going to wake up soon and she has no idea what she'll do if the medical coma didn't work. "What did he think about Tony's pitch?"

Christine hums as she takes another sip. "Well, you were there. He's suspicious, of course." She rolls her eyes. "Because God forbid anyone offer anything to him genuinely."

"Well, he probably hasn't had too many genuine offers in his life. At least not for anything good," Claire says.

"Yeah, true," Christine sighs again, sadly. "Once Tony had left he said he'd think about it, at least. The money and benefits are tempting, but he likes where he works." Her mouth twitches in a tiny grimace. "And he's not sure he wants to be an Avenger."

Which of course was a condition of him working as an orderly in the Tower's Medical Suite, though Claire's sure Tony really thought it was a perk. "Not even a part time Avenger? Even with his own suite in the Tower and everything?" Claire's a little surprised. She remembers how Illya said he didn't want to hurt anyone anymore, but he was more than ready to go bust heads to get Matt back from Hydra. She would've thought the idea of being an on-call superhero would appeal to him.

"He's committed a lot of violence in his life," Christine says simply. "It still weighs on him, even when it was ostensibly for a good cause, like when he was with U.N.C.L.E. And at least some of those missions were because of Hydra secretly pulling the strings, like they did with S.H.I.E.L.D. He doesn't want more violence on his conscience. Especially when he's…wary of the veracity of the Avengers' good intentions."

"Ouch." Claire can understand that, but… "So why didn't he just say 'no'?"

"Because he trusts _me._ " Christine smiles, aware of the gift she's been given. "And he knows I trust the Avengers and think they're doing good. That they are good. So, he'll think about it."

"I'm glad," Claire says. She takes another drink, waiting for Christine to ask her the same question.

Christine doesn't disappoint. "What about you? Are you going to come work in the Medical Suite here?"

"I don't know," Claire says. "Like you said, the money and benefits are tempting. Actually, they're amazing. And I'd love to move out of my mom's apartment…"

"But?"

" _But,_ " Claire continues, "I never wanted to do corporate, you know? Metro General was bad enough, with their…. Well, you know how it is, sneaking in patients so they can get the treatment they need."

Christine nods wearily.

"Yeah," Claire sighs. "And I think that only looking after Stark Industries employees would be more corporate than that. Literally." Claire smirks, then purses her lips. "I'm all for helping the Avengers—if they need it. But let's face it, Avengers-level world disasters don't happen all that often—but I don't want to spend my career handing out bandages to office drones who could actually afford a walk-in clinic. Not when there are too many people out there who can't afford anything."

Christine hums again in agreement as she finishes her mug. "What if you make your free clinic part of the deal?"

Claire blinks. "You mean, that he funds it?" That had never even occurred to her. Tony is a difficult, but fundamentally decent man. Except decency doesn't seem to go far in the business world, and he has stockholders to think about.

But, "Yeah, exactly." Christine nods. "Funds it, supplies it, staffs it…. Hey," she says, perking up, "what if he could make it, like, a Stark Industries thing for you? You'd work there, instead of the tower, and be on call for the Avengers the same way I would."

That would be...that would be everything that Claire wanted, actually. "You think he'd go for it?"

Christine spreads her hands, but she looks hopeful. "I have no idea. But, he's richer than God, right? And I'm sure he'd get huge tax breaks for funding a free clinic. Not to mention the publicity. Huh." She tilts her head. "I wonder if Illya would want to work with you?"

Claire thinks of how Illya kept Bucky from trashing the place, then how easy Illya's skills and strength made it to care for him. "That would be amazing. A free clinic with your boyfriend helping me? I'd fucking clip the Hulk's toenails for that."

Christine blushes again, but she laughs. "I think he'd prefer clipping the Hulk's toenails with you than shifts with some of his coworkers." She sobers, her smile quieting to something warm and deeply fond. "It's strange, thinking of him as my boyfriend. I always thought I'd end up with another surgeon. Not a former spy."

"Yeah, well." Claire snorts. "I always figured I'd end up with a doctor or another nurse. Not an incarcerated, former vigilante who happens to be bulletproof. Life is very good at knocking you on your ass." She takes a second to return Christine's chuckle, then becomes serious. "You're happy, though, right? I mean, Illya may not be a surgeon, but…you're happy?"

Christine beams. "Oh, yes. I'm very happy."

Claire beams back, but she has a hard time keeping it. It's the lowkey, aching tiredness that won't leave her alone, creeping back like water.

It's stress, if she's being honest. Constant, underlying stress since she lost her job at Metro-General. Or, really, since she met Matt and got herself kidnapped and then couldn't seem to keep masochistic _Special Needs_ patients out of her life.

She and Christine had joked about calling them _Particular Idiots._ It definitely fits.

So, yeah. She's worried about Matt, and Luke, and going broke, and what she's actually going to do with her life. Though maybe she won't have to worry about the last two for much longer, if Tony actually agrees to fund her clinic. But still, it's exhausting. She's exhausted. She just wants Luke back and Matt to wake up sane and everything to be okay.

"Are you all right?" Christine says.

Claire grimaces and shrugs, taking a last slug of coffee and putting it down on the table. "I'm worried about Matt," she says, because right now Matt definitely has first place of everything she's stressed about. "I keep remembering how he was when he came out of surgery to repair the GSW. He didn't recognize anyone except the kid, and he only knew his own name because it'd been told to him. He doesn't know he's Daredevil, or an Avenger, or a lawyer, or anything. And he keeps…" She waves her fingers in front of her eyes, trying to describe something she can barely explain. " _fading out,_ while you're talking to him. Like, he'll blink and it's like he wasn't actually there for the last few minutes. It's terrifying."

Christine leans forward a little and wraps her hand around Claire's fist. Her fingers are cold. "I'm so sorry," she says. "I didn't get the chance to meet him, but I know how much he means to you. I wish I could say I was sure the medical coma will work. But he is enhanced, just like Illya and Bucky. Hopefully that will make a difference. And even if he doesn't come out of the coma healed, it doesn't mean he won't. Just that it might take more time."

"I know," Claire says quietly. "But what if he _can't_ get better? What if he's like this permanently? What then?"

Christine's smile is more like a wince, but she puts her other hand over Claire's too. "Then at least he'll have the best possible care available to him. And friends who'll love him no matter what."

Claire's able to muster a smile in return, though now she's swallowing back tears. "That doesn't seem like very much."

"It's more than a lot of people get."

Claire knows Christine's doing her best, but that really doesn't help. She pulls back, tugging her hand, but only halfheartedly. She stops trying when Christine doesn't let go. "He deserves better than assisted living or a group home, Christine!"

"I know," Christine says gravely. "He doesn't deserve anything that happened to him. But all I mean is, even in the worst case scenario, he'll be cared for and he won't be alone. You've got to hang on to that," she adds when Claire just shakes her head. "Sometimes the silver lining is all we have."

"That's not a 'silver lining'," Claire doesn't actually snarl it. She knows her friend is just trying to comfort her; it's not Christine's fault that Claire doesn't want to hear it. "That's barely a glimmer in the dark."

"I know. I know that. And I know it sucks." Christine squeezes Claire's hand. "But sometimes that's all we have."

Claire sighs. She nods, swallowing. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just scared."

"You don't have to apologize," Christine says. "Honestly, I'm scared for Matt too. But it's also possible that he'll be fine, and we're worrying for nothing."

"Oh believe me, with Matt it's never 'nothing'," Claire says darkly. It's a joke—mostly—but neither of them feel like laughing.

"He's lucky to have you as a friend," Christine says.

"Yes he is," Claire says. Though if he remembers her, she'll be the lucky one.

Their phones both sound at the same moment, signaling an incoming text. Christine and Claire look at each other, then scramble to grab them. Claire knows what the text will say even before she sees that it's from J.A.R.V.I.S.: **Mr. Murdock is waking up.**

* * *

Bucky, Illya, Steve and Tony are outside Matt's room when Claire and Christine come from the elevator. They're leaning against the wall, packed together like hallway space is at a premium. Steve has his hand on Tony's shoulder. Bucky has his arms wrapped around Illya and Steve. He seems incongruously small, standing between the two of them. The three Super Soldiers greet Claire and Christine with their usual old-world courtesy, with Tony a beat behind. They all look as anxious as Claire feels.

Illya gently disengages from Bucky when he sees Christine, giving him a last clasp on the shoulder before he goes to her. Illya's smile is tight and anxious, but when he looks at Christine there's so much affection in his eyes it makes Claire's heart ache.

Bucky waits until after Illya and Christine kiss, then gives Illya a textbook-perfect, annoyingly knowing big-brother grin. Illya gives Bucky an elaborate eyeroll in response, even though he and Christine are both blushing. Bucky just laughs.

He doesn't follow Illya and Christine inside, though. Instead he leans against Steve, smiling softly as he watches Illya hold the door for Christine.

Tony doesn't move away from the wall either. "We're waiting to see how he is," he explains when Claire looks questioningly at them. "Don't wanna crowd the amnesiac blind guy, you know?"

"We can hear what he says." Steve points at his ear. "Super-Soldier hearing."

"Right," Claire says. She lifts her hands, showing her crossed fingers. "Here's hoping."

"Good luck," Bucky says as Claire goes through the door. She figures he means it for all of them.

Foggy's in Matt's room already, but that's not surprising. Foggy hasn't left other than maybe to eat since Matt was rescued. She wonders how he's working his cases, or if anyone's helping him. She hopes he won't lose his job for this. From the little he's told her, Foggy's boss isn't particularly understanding.

Matt's cases are covered. The official story is that Matt was hit by a car, and apparently the Blind Lawyer of Hell's Kitchen is a bit of an industry celebrity in his own right. Tony said that his legal team were falling all over themselves to volunteer to help.

It's comforting, knowing that. Claire just hopes to hell Matt will be able to appreciate it.

Foggy gives them a strained smile and a tiny wave. He's sitting next to Matt's head, his beefy paw wrapped around Matt's limp hand. Matt's twitching a little bit, slowly pulling himself out of sleep. She's glad to see his breathing tube is gone, since she knows him well enough to be sure he would've tried to yank it out while still unconscious.

Illya and Christine are at the front of the room next to the door, as far away from the bed as possible. Claire's sure that was Illya's choice, since he's leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched like he's trying to make himself less looming.

Karen's not there. Foggy said she made Matt anxious.

Claire goes to the chair on Matt's other side and sits. She takes his left hand, absently chafing it between hers. His fingers twitch at the contact, and she smiles a little despite her worry for him. She winces when she sees the finger-shaped bruises on his wrists. She notes the size of them, then looks at Illya. He hunches that much farther in on himself under her gaze.

"He tried to pull everything out," Illya says. His voice is matter-of-fact, but Claire doesn't miss the distress in it. "Fought very hard. Nurses could not keep him still, so they called for help." He shrugs, the gestures' casualness belied by the quiet devastation on his face. "I was nearby, and…I have done this before. So, I helped."

"You did what you had to," Christine says quietly. Her hands are wrapped around Illya's nearer arm. "If you'd let him pull his lines out, it would have been a lot worse."

"I know," Illya says. It's clear by his voice the knowledge makes no difference.

"I think he's waking up," Foggy says.

Instantly everyone's attention is riveted. Matt's eyelids flutter, then his breathing changes. He's fighting his way back.

"Yeah, that's it, Matt. That's it, wake up," Foggy says, gripping his hand. "Wake up for me, Buddy. It's Foggy. Claire's with me too. And the big guy, Illya. We're all waiting for you to come home."

Claire doesn't realize she's been holding her breath until Matt opens his eyes.

He's facing her, but of course he's looking at nothing, his big, dark eyes as blank as always. He sucks in a breath of shock or fear and she lets go instantly, not wanting to trap him. She doesn't expect him to snap his head towards Foggy, or reach for him so frantically with his newly-freed hand that he nearly hits him in the face.

"Whoa! Hey, yeah. I'm here. It's me, Foggy." Foggy grabs Matt's hand and holds it to his cheek. "It's Foggy," he says again, more quietly. "Do you recognize me, Matt?"

Matt doesn't speak. Instead he tugs impatiently at his right hand, which Foggy's still holding, to make him let go. As soon as both his hands are free he traces Foggy's face with his fingers. Foggy leans closer to make it easier for him, talking the whole time. "You have to remember those chipmunk cheeks, right, Matt? My chipmunk cheeks bring all the girls to the yard. Take your time, Buddy. I mean, Matt. I know your name is Matt. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Foggy," Matt says. His voice is rough and weak from the intubation. Claire listens for a thread of uncertainty; isn't sure she's not imagining it when she hears none. He pulls his hands away from Foggy's face, but unerringly drops one over Foggy's, now curled around the bed rail. "You're scared. Are you all right?"

Foggy makes a noise that's not entirely too choked to be a laugh. "I'm just fine, Matt. Just kinda' worried about my best friend. Who is you, by the way. In case…in case you didn't know that. My best friend is you."

"I am? You really…." Matt blinks, and his night-empty eyes are suddenly shining with tears. "You forgive me? After what I did to you?"

Foggy sucks in a breath, his eyes enormous. He lets go of the bedrail to clutch Matt's hand with both his own. "You remember? Do you remember that, Matt? Us? You remember us?"

Matt nods. "We met at university. We had a law firm together. But, I pushed you away. You and Karen. I fucked up everything like I always do. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve it. I just…." His breath shudders. "I should be alone, Foggy. I don't…. I'm not supposed to have friends. You get hurt. And then…you don't…it doesn't work. I can't make it work."

His words are still halting, tinged with uncertainty, but the awful, _unbelievably stupid_ logic behind them is entirely, completely Matt. Claire's expelled breath turns into a sob of relief. She would have never imagined in a million years she'd be so grateful to hear Matt deriding himself. She hates him talking like that, but it means he remembers. He remembers.

Matt hears her, of course, and he startles a bit, like he'd forgotten there was anyone else in the room. He instantly flips his attention to her. "Claire?"

She nods, her throat momentarily too tight to speak. "Yeah, Matt," she gets out finally. "It's me. Illya is here too. And Christine. She's my friend. She helped you when you were shot."

Claire doesn't know if Matt remembers being shot, but he turns his head so his eyes are facing up, then goes still in the way she knows means he's concentrating. "Steve and Tony are outside," he says. "And…" He blinks. "Engine? His arm is different." He turns back to Claire. "What happened to his arm?"

"Bucky's arm is fixed," Illya rumbles from near the door. "Not burning anymore."

"Oh," Matt says. Then, "Illya? You're okay?"

"Yes, Matya. Bucky and I are fine," Illya says. Claire can hear the tremulous relief in his voice. "You held off Hydra for us, let us escape. I brought Bucky to Claire and Christine, got him help. He is alive because of you."

"I don't…I don't really remember," Matt says. "Just…." He sucks in a breath, eyes widening. "Rain!" He tries to sit up, but after surgery and days in a coma his body doesn't have the strength for it. Foggy helps him upright while Claire adjusts the bed. "The boy. Is he all right? He…We escaped, didn't we? I remember…He was here? Safe?"

"That's right." Claire nods again, taking Matt's hand. It shakes like a caged bird, either from fatigue or adrenaline. "He's safe. Steve Rogers and Tony Stark got you and Rain out from where you were being held. They brought you here, to Avengers Tower. That's where you are right now. Rain's fine. He went home."

"He's going to come back and see you," Foggy says. "He's okay, Matt. He told us how you protected him."

"I don't remember protecting him," Matt says. "I remember him telling me my name."

"You were shot because you were helping him escape," Foggy says.

"I'm sorry," Matt says. "I can't remember being shot." All the same, he frees his hand from Claire then touches his side where the bandage is, hidden under the hospital gown. "It's here?" He presses a little, then hisses. The wound is healing about twice as fast as for an ordinary person, but it's still got to hurt like a bitch.

Claire gently pulls his hand away. "What's your last clear memory?" She knows she shouldn't push, but she can't help herself. She's been terrified for days that Matt wouldn't recover from what Grant Ward did to him. She's too desperate for some assurance to leave him alone.

Matt goes still again. "We found Bucky. Me and Illya." he says slowly. "He was really sick. He was delirious, and he stank of infection. His arm was burning him." Matt licks his lips. "I think…Yeah. He was dying. We had to get him out of there because he was dying."

"That is true," Illya says. "Then what? Do you remember?"

Matt hesitates again, then nods. "I heard people coming. A lot of them." He turns his head so his eyes are aimed in Illya's direction. "I told you to take Bucky and run. You didn't want to leave me, but you had to. So you did."

Illya swallows. "Yes," he says. The word is heavy with self-directed anger. "And then what?"

"And then…." Matt grimaces again. "Nothing. Just…bits. Cold. Pain." He frowns, like he doesn't know what to make of his own recollection. "Embers. Words that were like embers. And someone…someone telling me I was his brother. Except I hated him. And…keeping Rain warm. Rain telling me my name." He rolls his head so he's almost looking at Foggy. "You trying to tell me what a lawyer does." Matt's mouth spreads into something close to one of his normally ridiculously charming smiles. "You were pretty bad at it."

"Yeah, well. Give me a break. I was kind of preoccupied," Foggy says. His attempt at sounding affronted is completely undermined by the happiness in his voice, even if it's undercut by tears. "You know I'm lousy under pressure."

Matt smirks a little. "I definitely think I remember that."

It's a joke. Foggy is very good under pressure, and Matt knows it. He _remembers_ it. He has to, because it's clear Matt's _teasing_ him. And that…that's so good. It's so much better than what Claire had dreaded, that what Christine told her could be true: How Matt's future might be a tiny, fumbling existence in a world he didn't understand.

The last of Claire's constant, aching fear for him floods out of her all at once, leaving her lightheaded. It's not certain, not yet. He needs to be officially accessed, and there's still the possibility of regression. And she has no idea how to even tell if he still has his abilities, or if he remembers how to use them. But all that can wait. Because Matt's _here._ He's here, and he knows who he is and where he fits in the life he's chosen. He's all right.

Foggy laughs, then leans over the bedrail and gives Matt an awkward hug. "I'm so glad to have you back, Matt," he says, muffled into Matt's messy hair. "I missed you so much. And I don't mind telling you I was fucking terrified you wouldn't remember anything, and I'd have nobody to reminisce about our drunken college shenanigans with."

Matt laughs and hugs him back. "How could I ever forget those?"

"I know, right?" Foggy says, still hugging him. "Forgetting something that epic would just be, like, a complete travesty. The angels would weep."

"We couldn't have that," Matt says.

Foggy kisses Matt's forehead before he pulls back. Matt doesn't look even remotely surprised.

"I missed you too, Foggy," Matt says, serious. "I missed you a lot."

Foggy's smile gets tight and watery around the edges. "Yeah," he says, voice rough. "Let's not do that shit again, okay? It's you and me against the world. Always and forever."

Matt nods. "Yeah, Foggy. You and me. Always." He looks in Illya's direction again. "But, it's just you and me anymore. We have friends." His grin is tentative, but it's not uncertain; just shy. "And…I have brothers now. That's true, right?" he asks Illya. "You, and Bucky and Rain. You're my brothers."

Illya gives Matt one of his rare, beaming smiles. "Yes, Matya. That is true." He tilts his head towards the door. "Bucky would like to see you. Thank you in person."

"When you're ready," Christine chimes in. "We didn't want to crowd you."

"I'm ready," Matt says. "Bucky can come in. And Steve and Tony too."

"I think that's my cue," Christine says. She rises onto her tiptoes to kiss Illya on the corner of his mouth, then squeezes his arm before she lets go. "I'm so glad you're feeling better, Matthew," she says to him. "I'm sure I'll see you later." She pats Illya's chest as she slips out, ducking around Bucky and Steve as they enter.

Bucky casually grabs the far side of Illya's head with one hand, then plants a smacking kiss on Illya's temple. Illya scowls exactly like an annoyed younger sibling, but when Bucky grins at him, unrepentant, Illya grins back.

Steve smiles at Bucky like he's the best thing Steve's ever seen.

Tony comes in last, hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans. "Uh, hi, Matt." He gives a little wave. "I'm waving. I'm Tony. Iron Man. I help make you weapons and sh-stuff."

"I remember you, Tony," Matt says. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"Oh. Uh, the big blond guy here did most of that. Not that you can tell he's blond," Tony says, jerking his thumb at Steve. "But, you're welcome. And now I'm gonna leave, because it is way too claustrophobic with three giants in here. I'll come back later, okay? And we can talk about how you're getting a decent phone, and a new Daredevil suit with better armor and trackers in it."

Matt's hospital room is huge, so Claire's pretty sure it's the high-running emotions that got to Tony so quickly, rather than too little space. But nobody calls him on it as he basically flees.

"I think this is my cue to leave as well," Claire says, because she can see how badly Illya and Bucky want to come to Matt's side, but are hanging back out of politeness. Bucky, Illya and Matt may only be related by circumstance, but it's clear how little that matters.

Some families you choose, she thinks, and Bucky and Illya have chosen Matt as their own.

He's lucky.

"Claire." Matt reaches for her as she stands, then gently cups her cheek. "I missed you too," he says. "Thank you."

She turns her head and drops a kiss on his palm. They were only ever almost together, never more than friends. But that doesn't mean she doesn't love him. She's chosen her family too. "I'm glad you're back," she says. She wonders if he can tell how much she means it. "I'll see you soon."

She gets her coat from where she left it, says goodbye to everyone, and then she's back in the hallway, breathing deeply and trying not to lose it before she at least gets to the elevator.

When she gets there, Christine's waiting for her. "Hey, come here," she says, and Claire falls gratefully into her arms.

"It's okay. He's all right, everything's fine," Christine murmurs, rubbing Claire's back. Claire cries on her friend's shoulder, gutted by relief. Christine sounds close to tears herself. "He's getting his memory back. He's okay. He's going to be just fine."

"I know," Claire sniffles, then keeps crying anyway. They really should get into the elevator. They're too close to Matt where they are and she doesn't want to upset him. Then again, he'd probably be able to hear them anywhere in the building.

"I know you know," Christine says. "I'm reminding you anyway."

Claire snorts out a wet laugh, then laughs again when Christine pulls back enough to press a pack of tissues into her hand. "You're like my mom."

"I've learned to never leave home without them," Christine explains. "I cry at, like, cereal commercials."

Claire manages another laugh while she's wiping her eyes. "Thank you."

"Anytime," Christine says sincerely. She tucks a lock of hair behind Claire's ear, helping unstick it from her wet cheek. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Claire sniffs, then nods and swallows. "It's just been a really long couple weeks."

"God, yeah." Christine takes a breath. "I say we go to my place and watch stupid movies while drinking our weight in alcohol."

That gets her a laugh with almost no tears in it at all. "I am entirely behind that idea." Claire wipes her eyes one last time, then her nose, then drops the crumpled tissues into the nearest trash basket. She picks her coat up from where she dropped it on the floor. "I just need to do something first." She takes a breath. "J.A.R.V.I.S., where's Tony Stark?"

"Sir is in currently in his workshop," the A.I. says. There's a pause. "He says you may come down if you'd like to speak to him."

"Great. Thanks. Please tell him we'll be right there." She looks at Christine. "Want to help me pitch your idea for a free walk-in clinic?"

"Yes," Christine says, beaming. "Yes I would."

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, I can't believe I'm saying this, but, after more than _three fucking years_ , this series is finished. To everyone who stuck with me, I can't tell you how honored and grateful I am. I hope you enjoyed this last installment, and thank you. Thank you so very, very much.
> 
> [My Tumblr.](http://taste-is-sweet.tumblr.com/)


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